Six Words and One Fatal Moment
by flower-carnage
Summary: You need to realize that wishes don’t always come true. Life isn’t like a mortal fairytale.” [oneshot, Jareth centric, Jareth x Sarah unrequited]


**A/N:** _I have officially seen this movie too many times. A short, angsty Jareth fic, featuring the Queen of Faeries and lots and lots of angst. There are (minor) intentional references to **Phantom of the Opera** for all you losers (like me) out there._

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own **Labyrinth**, sadly, as it belongs to Jim Henson. Even more sadly is that David Bowie does not belong to me. -Tear, tear- I LOVE YOU, DAVID! Valerie, however, is mine. (But she can't compare to the sex that is David Bowie.)_

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Is love supposed to last throughout all time, or is it like trains changing at random stops. If I loved her, how could I leave her? If I felt that way then, how come I don't feel anything now?

- Jeff Melvoin, _Northern Exposures, Altered Egos, 1993_

_---_

Sarah was gone.

Toby was safe.

Jareth was alone.

Sarah had conquered the labyrinth, the only mortal to ever do so. She hadn't feared him, or, if she had, she hadn't shown it. He had no power over her.

Not anymore.

He never did.

He doesn't understand this.

Jareth sits in his throne, with his elbows resting on his thighs and his face buried in his palms. He can't feel. He doesn't remember how to feel. He doesn't know what to think.

It's been two weeks and three days and seven hours and thirty-four minutes since Sarah left. She'd left triumphant, with her gurgling baby brother, who, in Jareth's private opinion wasn't too bad, and the glory of being the only mortal to ever complete the infamous labyrinth and survive, and the credit for defeating the Goblin King.

Only two of those are true, though. Sarah had left with her brother and the glory, but not the credit. Or maybe that last one's only half-true, because Jareth isn't dead -he'll never die- but he was defeated in a sense.

He'd loved her. Jareth had loved Sarah more than anything in the world. And she had crushed him. His flair and spirit are gone. He's a shell of his former self.

"I would have given you everything," he whispers, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes until all he can see are stars and shapes and he tries to block out her face. "Anything you wanted. I would grant your every wish. I would have been your _slave_."

He wants to see her again. He would do anything to see her again.

"You need to stop obsessing, Jareth. It's not good for your health."

Jareth jumps at the smooth, silky voice behind him and turns around.

Leaning against the back of his throne was Valerie, the Queen of the Faeries and one of the only creatures that Jareth has an ounce of respect for. Their people have a steady truce, broken only when the Goblins spray the faeries and the small faeries attack the Goblins in swarms.

"Valerie," he says, his voice shaking slightly. "I… I didn't see you there."

She smirks. "Of course you didn't, darling. You were too busy wallowing in self-pity."

The Faerie Queen, unlike her people, isn't tiny. She's tall, albeit not Jareth's height, but she has gossamer wings like all faeries in story books do, and her dark red, long hair falls in wild curls down her back. Her skin is smooth and pale and her deep green dress has no sleeves and barely covers her and she wears bracelets and ankle-bracelets that twist, vine-like, around her limbs. She wears a circlet of metal vines and flowers on her head and, around her long, graceful neck, a gold chain with a single amethyst hanging from it. The jewel is the exact color of her beautiful eyes.

He sighs, but takes in her strong, wiry form and lovely, delicate face. While he would never consider a relationship beyond mutual respect with Valerie, he still finds her beautiful. "What do you want, Valerie?"

"Just checking to see if my favorite Goblin King is still obsessing over a silly mortal girl," she says.

"I'm not _obsessing _over her. I just can't believe that she's beaten me," he says.

Valerie laughs. "Oh, Jareth, denial _can_ be fun," she cries, delighted. "You're just too proud to admit that someone didn't immediately fall at your feet. And now you're all moping about it."

"_You_ wouldn't understand, Valerie," he says coldly. It was true- the Faerie Queen had never been in love and refused to marry because she wanted to have complete control over her kingdom and people.

"Oh, but Jareth," she says, draping an arm over his shoulder, "you need to realize that mortals have much different agendas than us. Jareth, dear, you get too involved with them. Granting wishes and all that. While we -my people and I- are probably the mortals' most popular creatures, even we don't go that far. Although I do wish they wouldn't name stupid stories after us."

She purses her lips in disgust and walks around his throne so she's facing him.

"You don't understand, Valerie," Jareth says, and his voice becomes suddenly quiet and he looks her straight in the eye. She forces herself not to look away, because his eyes are so hopeless. He's broken, crushed, beaten and she can't stand to see him this way. "I loved her. I was in love with her. I loved her."

Valerie's eyes become a little softer and the laughter vanishes from them. "Oh, Jareth," she sighs, and reaches out to touch his cheek. She brushes it with her fingertips. "Jareth, you love too much. And she was a mortal. It would have never worked, darling."

He lets her smooth away some of his golden hair. "I know," he says, still so quiet. "But I promised her everything. I would have let her stay here. I lowered myself to pleading with her. Her, a mere mortal." Here, he laughs bitterly. "I promised her immortality and royalty and _everything_ . Anything she would have wanted, I would have gladly given to her. She could have been my queen. And in one moment, that one fatal moment, when I begged and pleaded and implored and accepted and shared my affections and feelings and _love_ for her, she spurned me with six words."

Valerie bites her lower lip and brushes her fingernails against his cheek. "I know, Jareth. I know. But, darling, sometimes you need to realize… You need to realize that wishes don't always come true. Life isn't like a mortal fairy-tale."

He doesn't listen to her. "I offered her everything. I offered her dreams and love and more power and myself, and then it was over." He looks up at Valerie, dangerously close to tears, and he feels suddenly like Toby must have when the child had first come to his castle. "And then it was over. It was over in one fatal moment and six words."

Then he bows his head and begins to weep, and all the numbness comes undone, and he can feel again and it hurts so badly and Valerie can't to anything; she has no words of comfort to help alleviate the pain of a defeated man, no power to give him back his spirit, no love beyond respect to offer him in his desperate need of it. She might have said something if she were someone else, but as it was she just keeps stroking his mane of golden hair in a silence punctured by the sobs of a broken king.

---

_le fin_


End file.
